


Anomalous

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "What is that?" Lotor pointedly stares down at the small bottle in her hand."Nail polish," she answers smoothly. "I got ruby red, forest green, baby blue, midnight black and creamy white. Which do you want?"Lotor had expected many things when he handed himself over to Voltron and the team. The team's mistrust doesn't surprise him, nor does his holding cell. However, he wasn't expecting a human like Nova Cethine.





	1. "Hello, Alien."

**Author's Note:**

> I will reply to any and all reviews. Guests, please name yourself something, so that you are not mistaken for someone else. All reviews will be in future notes.

        If someone told me that Prince Lotor of the Galra would be in the ship's cell, much less on  _our_ side, I would have called them delusional. Yet, Prince Lotor of the Galra is, in fact, calmly lounging in a holding cell in the ship.

        I sigh and rest my cheek on my palm, staring at the video feed of our recently new and purple resident royalty. He's simply laying down on his bed, staring up at his ceiling, looking utterly bored. I can relate. Voltron is currently coming back from a successful mission, and not being a paladin myself or an Altean, I have absolutely  _nothing_ to do. But even if I  _could_ be of help, I highly doubt they would need me due to Lotor's unfailing information.

        Am I bitter? Yes.

        But not at Lotor personally. I first met Lance, Hunk, and Pidge on earth and had come along with them when we all escaped with Keith and Shiro. But no lion chose me, and I'm not a math/science wiz like Ravenclaw Pidge is, so I'm not much of use to Coran either. Not to say that I'm dumb, I was an average student back on earth with a C+ to a B+ and also am a decent pilot, it's just that my smarts lay else where.

        "Nova?" Coran's head pops up from my open doorway. I quickly close the video feed and smile at him.

        "Yeah?" I question, feeling a tad nervous. I don't know why, but I don't want him knowing that I was watching Lotor.

        "The paladins will be here soon, so I was wondering if you wanted to help me cook dinner?"

        I give Coran my flattest look. "Do you  _really_ think that's a wise decision?"

        Coran chuckles nervously.

        I arch a fine brow. "I think we should wait until Hunk comes back, don't you?"

        "On second thought, perhaps you're right," Coran chuckles nervously again, and sheepishly slides away.

        I shake my head at Coran's actions. I glance around my chaotically 'clean' room, before standing up and popping a few joints. I leave my room, closing the door, and walk to a common room and await the others.

        Fourteen doboshes later, the others arrive with a bounce in their step.

        "Hey, Nova!" Lance greets cheerfully. "Did you see how awesome I was out there? I totally destroyed those Galra!"

        " _We_ did," Shiro reminds Lance with a small smile of his own. "I'm going down to Lotor, so the rest of you can relax."

        "I shall come also," Allura announces and Shiro nods to her.

        "Me third," I chime in, while raising my arm so.

        Shiro blinks at me in slight surprise, but doesn't object.

_As if he could stop me,_ I muse with a mental snort. And so the three of us walk down the hallways and levels towards Lotor. He's been there for a week already, and so far he's been extremely helpful. But no one trusted him farther than his valuable information. I myself still carry doubts, but they aren't as big as Allura's or any of the others. I've been watching Lotor since day one, although I've never spoken a word to him.

        It's just, while I may not be textbook smart, I  _am_ people smart. Compare me to a dog if you want, but either way I excel at telling a person's character through observation and personal interaction. I love to study psychology and want to be a therapist when I'm older, or whenever we defeat the Galra and save the universe. Most probably the latter. Anyways, so far Lotor isn't seeming the Evil Prince, so I'm willing to give him (some of) the benefit of doubt. After all, nobody get's to choose their parents.

        It also helps that he's a public enemy of the Empire.

        Allura types in a code on the white wall's keypad, and the door's slide open. I grab the black sharpie that I kept in my bra and quickly write down what I think is the password on my palm. Then I stuff it back in.

        Ah, such useful pockets bras are. They make up for the pocket-less yoga and none-skinny pants that I am and usually wear.        

        "Is this bridge  _really_ necessary?" I comment as we cross the  _long_ pathway to Lotor and his cell. Like seriously? I used to think that this kind of thing was for movies only? Nobody graced me with an answer, though.

        "Another successful mission, I take it?" Lotor smirks smugly and stays sitting. The first time I met a Galra face to face, I was shocked at how big they were. Especially compared to little 5'4 foot me. Lotor is no exception. If he were to stand I'll probably only just meet his rib cage. His purplish blue eyes glance to me, examining me up and down. "I know you're not one of the paladins, so who are you?" Lotor questions me curiously.

        I smile and wave. "I'm Nova, the much needed emotional help and friend. I'm also occasionally the reason for chaos."

        Lotor quirks a fine white brow and Shiro clears his throat.

        "Yes, the mission went smoothly. Thank you for your information. I was wondering if you know anything on the planet Kuthila?"

        "Of course I do," he scoffs, his attention back to Shiro and Allura. "It's a planet I conquered last decapheeb. What do you want to know?"

        Both Allura and Shiro tense at Lotor's carefree comment, and I can't help but wince. It's a reminder of how Lotor used to be working for the enemy, which isn't very smart on his part. Lotor seem to have realize this, too, too late.

        "We need to know all of the security, any traps, and the best way to sneak in so that we may free the rebels," Shiro explained, and so began the long battle prep. Shiro and Allure both ask Lotor many questions, which he answers seemingly truthful and without hesitation. During the whole thing, I felt out of place. When they finished, Shiro thanks Lotor and he and Allura turn to leave. I don't move my own feet, though.

        "You must be awfully bored in there," I observe. Allura and Shiro pause, noticing my lack of following.

        Lotor shrugs his wide shoulders. "It would be more entertaining out of this cell."

        Allura narrows her eyes.

        "Do you like to read?" I ask Lotor and clasp my hands behind me.

        "I suppose," Lotor replies, almost lazily. "I prefer non-fiction, though."

        I wrinkle my nose, and Lotor's lips twitch up.  _Of course he would._ Personally, I prefer to escape reality.

        "Nova," Allura begins.

        "I'll meet up with you guys in a dobosh," I nod and flash them a smile in order to convince them.

        Allura and Shiro glance at each other, as if they're parents deciding if they should leave their troubled child alone. Shiro shrugs, and the decision is made.

        "Alright, just be careful," Allura eyes me and then Lotor before turning.

        "Wait," I say and they pause again. "Can you guys whisper the code for me?" Allura does, and I force my next smile not to be victorious as they leave. I check my hand, and confirm that I only got one number wrong.

        Lotor's eyes flicker to my hand, but that's fine because it's wrong. "Was there something you needed, without other ears?" Lotor inquires.

        "Not really," I shrug. "Only if I can make your stay here more comfortable. Like any books, bedding or clothes. Things like that. Though," I add and look him up and down, "I can't grantee if the clothes will be a perfect fit." The Blade members don't keep extra clothes here, so the closest option is Hunk.

        Lotor studies me, trying to decipher my actions and motives. "Those would be appreciated. Food that isn't green goo would also be welcomed," he says the last part dryly.

        I laugh, and am surprised that it's genuine amusement that I feel. "Okay. I'll see what I can do. You know, that goo is what we used to always and only eat in the beginning."

        "So it's  _not_ what you feed all your prisoners?" Lotor quirks a brow. "It certainly could pass for grub."

        I grin. "No, sorry. You're our only prisoner."

        "I feel so special," he snarks and I laugh again. Who knew that the Prince of the Galra Empire is so sarcastically charming?

        "Okay, well, I need to go. I'll come later with some things," I promise before turning and leaving.

        Lotor watches me walk away, calmly and without giving any emotion away. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Nova."

* * *

        I knock on Pidge's door. "Pidge? It's Nova."

        "Come in!"

        Pidge's door slides open to reveal a room twice as disastrous as my own. And my mom nags about  _my_ cleaning habits! I enter and make sure not to step on all the mechanics that litter the completely trash-covered floor.

        Pidge smiles up at me from her spot on her bed. "Hey. Wanna see this new thing I found?" she asks me excitedly.

        "Sorry," I mirror her smile, "but I was wondering if I could borrow some of your books?"

        Pidge frowns ever so slightly. "Sure, but why? I though you liked fiction."

        "I do," I reply and avoid answering properly. "Do you have any history books?" Even as I ask I'm searching and pulling my ash brown and red hair from my face.  _I need a haircut. It's almost the same length as Lotor's._

        "It's over by the bottles of Limath," Pidge supplies.

        I found it and a couple other educational and thick books.  _Yup, Pidge is definitely a Ravenclaw._ "Thanks," I say and hold them to my chest.

        "No prob. Just make sure you give them back when you're done." Her attention is already fully on her computer.

        "Well do, Ravenclaw." I leave Pidge and go to Hunk's room. He isn't here, so I sneakily and quickly search his closet. I grab a couple shirts and pants, tucking them over the heavy books and under my chin. Next stop is my room. I grab some extra bedding and a thin blanket, and at this point I can hold no more, and cautiously make my way to a security room. Thankfully, I saw no one in the hallways and the room is empty. I'm not completely sure  _why_ I must be so secretive, but I listen to my gut. There's a small, built-in box on the wall that's suppose transport food to Lotor's cell.

        Only this time it's gonna be more. I stuff in the bed sheets, close the lid, and press the big red button. I go to the computer on my right and open Lotor's surveillance camera. Lotor is laying and staring at his ceiling with his hands behind his head. He snaps to attention when his left wall beeps, brows pulled together in confusion since he already got his goo awhile ago, but nonetheless gets up and opens it. Both brows raise as he takes the bedding and unfolds it. He looks straight into to the camera, brows still raised. He seems surprised that I actually kept my word.

        I huff in mild annoyance. I transport everything, and then sneak into the kitchen and steal a slice of apple pie that Hunk baked yesterday and a fork. Just before I put it in the food's transporter, I write on a blank piece of paper that was on the security room's desk.

_'This is an apple pie. What foods do you like? Are you allergic to anything?'_ I write and place it on top of the pie. Bye bye!

        Lotor receives the pie, and thanks the camera for the 'gifts.' He's probably thinking I'm a naive good-doer right now, but that's not true. My doubts of his loyalty and motives haven't left, and I'm not a naturally kind person. I'm doing this to get on better terms with him, and so it'll be easier to talk to him. And all that is so I can find out his true character.

        Aren't I such a Slytherin?

        And the one thing I have zero doubts about concerning the purple Prince, is that he's one too. I'm very pleased with myself as I watch him take a bite of the pie.

        Let the games begin.

* * *

        "Sorry," Allura is startled when we have a run-in.

        "Sorry," I apologize too, sheepishly.

        "What is that?" Allura asks when she glances down to the foods that I'm carrying.

        "Oh, macaroni," I answer, hoping she'll leave it at that. Obviously, luck is  _not_ on my side today.

        "It looks interesting," she comments and leans in to smell. "That's cheese, no?"

        "Yup, made by the cow," I chirp. Allura's expression changes as she leans  _away,_ suddenly not so interested in the food anymore. When she and Coran had the sudden 180 on milk, I had questioned Lance on it. And I've never regretted doing so. I can't resist when I add, "would you like some?"

        "O-Oh," she sweat drops and lowly steps around me. "No thank you. I'm actually suppose to be meeting with Coran right now. But perhaps another time?"

        We both know there isn't going to be another time. I snicker when she disappears and continue on my merry way.  _Thank you, Lance._ I check my surrounding before I enter the security room and transport one of the bowls of hot, cheesy noodles. As quietly as I can, I race down the hallways and down a couple levels, mindful of my own bowl. I enter the correct numbers that I had written on a scrap piece of paper, and then put the paper back in my red hoodie's pocket.

        Lotor is still in the same clothes and armor I saw him in yesterday, sitting on his bed which now had sheets and another blanket, while holding his steaming bowl and fork. He gives me a half smile as he sees me. "I assume I have you to thank for this meal?"

_How is his hair knot-free without a hairbrush or hair-tie? Galra magic? Well, that's just unfair._  "Your gratitude is noted," is his response as I settle on the cold but clean floor. If he finds my staying here for lunch strange, he doesn't comment. "Did you like the apple pie last night?"

        "I did," Lotor says. "Is it a earthen food?"

        I take a bite of macaroni before replying. "Yup. So is this macaroni."

        Lotor tries a bite of it, and makes a face.

        I frown in disappointment, although his face makes me want to snort in amusement. Another surprise caused by the Prince. "Don't like it?" I guess.

        "No." He sets the bowl aside with a grimace.

        An awkward silence fills the air.  _What to do now?_ I chew another bite as ticks ticked by. I was just going to ask him about his hair when he spoke.

        "Tell me, do you believe me to be the enemy?" he leans in to rest his chin on his hand, elbow and his other arm on his knees.

        I pretended to ponder his question before responding, "I'm not completely sure, to be honest. You've been extremely helpful, but that doesn't erase what you've done in the past."

        "What can I do in order to earn your trust?" Lotor inquires seriously, his expression calm and patient, although his tightly clasped hands on his lap betrayed his emotions.

        Interesting.  _It must be one of his tells. I wonder what the others are?_ I've already memorized the team's, so having a new person to study is exciting. Like, Pidge has this habit of rubbing her glasses when she's lost in thought, Shiro's jaw clenches when he's trying to keep his anger at bay, and Allura will rub her arms when she's uncomfortable.

        "I have already turned myself in, made no move to resist or leave one question unanswered, and everything I have told you has been the absolute truth. With my assistance you have been able over come the Empire time and time again, and faster than you could ever do without me."        

        It seems like luck  _is_ on my side after all!

        "Tell me about yourself," I blurt out immediately. I curse my rashness mentally.  _Calm down._

        Lotor arches a brow. "If you're so curious, how about we play question for a question?"

        I shrug, as if I couldn't really care. "Okay. Let's start easy. What's your favourite colour?"

        Lotor snorts and leans back on his wall, utterly unimpressed. "Green. What are your actual duties as a member of team Voltron?"

        "I told you yesterday, emotional help and the occasional tension-breaking chaos."

        Lotor's expression is one of bewilderment. "And how does that assist in the war?"

        I tsk and wave my fork. "It's my turn now, Sir Purple." Now Lotor looks offended, and before I can reconsider I snort with laughter.  _Why are his reactions so comical?_

        "Excuse you?" he says and folds his long arms, incredulous.

        I bite my lip, wondering if I crossed a line.  _Should I apologize?_ I study his body language and expression, before deciding I can most likely get away with it. "I said that it's my turn now, Sir Purple."

        Lotor scowls. "Do not call me that undignified name."

_Fat chance._ I simply smile secretively before asking, "do you wish for siblings?"

        Lotor makes another face. "No, I do not."

        "Good for you," I grumble while thinking of my two younger siblings. I have a ten year old, video game obsessed brother and a chatterbox of an eight year old sister. My chest compresses painfully at their memory. I never thought in the past that I would miss them, as annoying and hair-ripping frustrating they are, but I do. Not just them, but earth and everyone on it also.

        "Now answer my question from earlier."

        "War and constant battle can mess with peoples psychology and emotional balance, and that can result in a broken team. I listen to what they confess, and give my advice and opinion when needed. You can say that I'm Voltron's therapist," I chuckle dryly at the last part and take another bite of food. "But honestly, sometimes they simply need a safe person to unload on. Whatever they tell me, I cannot repeat without the person's express permission or unless it's a life or death situation."

_However, sometimes their load can be too much for me. Not that I'll let them know that._ My therapy is really the only way I can help the team, and I refuse to have that taken away. Even if I have more fake smiles than real ones, am almost always mentally tired, and don't have someone to unload unto myself, I can handle it. I  _need_ to. Besides, even if I can't tell anyone about my own problems, because they're too closely tied to the team, there are other ways to deal. So I have it under control, really.

        A little voice disagrees, which I squash under my mental foot.  _I'm strong enough. How can I hope to be a therapist for a living if I can't handle the team?_

        Lotor hums thoughtfully. "I see. What about the 'tension-breaking chaos'?"

        I let him break the game's pattern. I twitch my lips into a sly smirk. "Other times, when everyone's nerves is shot up, they need fun and a distraction. Believe it or not, but my pranks force them to work together in order to stop me. And at the end of it they've bonded and are laughing once more."

        And plus, I just really enjoy pranks and messing with people, plain and simple. The memory of when I had dyed Lance's hair pink for a week comes to mind. Lance is a good sport, not a grudge holder like Keith, so even if he was irritated and moaned about it at first he tried to 'rock it' with some female aliens near the end. When Keith saw it he almost died laughing, along with Pidge. There's also the time I told Allura and Coran that 'bitch' and 'motherfucker' are terms of endearment for a friend...Yeah, those were a fun few days.

        Truth be told, the only reason why my 'tension-breaking chaos' works so well is because I'm not a Paladin, so when they are at ends with me it doesn't affect Voltron. I always make it up to them if I have crossed a line, though.

        "Who's one of your close friends?" I ask Lotor. Sometimes, the crowd a person hangs around can say a lot about themselves.

        "I don't have any," he states plainly.

        "What?"

        Lotor sighs and flicks some of his silver hair away. "I suppose I could have said my generals, but they're either dead or they betrayed me."

_Well then._

        How does someone reply to that? He doesn't seem particularly  _angry_ of this fact. It's as if he was simply stating the weather. "...And you're not angry at them?" I hesitate to wonder. He could just be incredibly good on masking his emotions, but then what was that little hint earlier?

        "Why should I? They lost their faith for me, we had nowhere to go, and staying with me is suicide when fighting the whole Galra Empire with the very limited resources we had. They simply saw no other choice than to use me in order to save themselves," Lotor says calmly, then his lips and brows dip in displeasure. "I will admit to being upset over their lack of trust in me, but I can still understand how it had looked to them."

        I just stare and blink at him, utterly stunned.  _Seriously?! Is he for real? Understandable or not...He truly isn't angry at them._ Wow.

        "Nova?"

        I shake my head, completely bewildered with Lotor's character. "It's your turn." I'll analyze this discovery later, when I'm alone.

        "How old are you? You don't look older than fourteen years old."

        I huff and cross my arms, offended. "I'm seventeen."  _Do you seriously think a fourteen year old would have my breasts?_ Then again, we are aliens to each other. You can't always be sure. I know I had a hard time figuring out if Shay was a female or male until I heard her speak...Maybe Lotor assumed my age because of my height?

        Lotor's expression is one of slight disbelief. "I see. Is the green Paladin also seventeen then?"

        "Hey," I chide, "stop asking two questions. You get  _one_ at a time, but no, Pidge is fifteen. I'm the oldest teenager, with Keith being eighteen and Lance being born a few months after me. What about you?"

        Lotor smirks, "ten thousand, and I'll be ten thousand and one near the end of this year."

        I felt my eyes pop out of my skull as I sputter, "ten thousand! Seriously?"  _How the hell...!_

        Lotor chuckles at my reaction. "I'm serious. Pardon my rudeness, but do you have any family?"

        I narrow my eyes, suspicious. "No," I lie smoothly. "Not anymore. They were all killed back on my home planet." Regret about asking about siblings slithered in me. I don't know for certain whether Lotor is truly on our side, for him being here could be a grand and long scheme in order to earn our trust and obtain Voltron. I would rather  _not_ give the Galra any hostages to manipulate me with.

        Lotor's expression softens. "I'm sorry to hear that."

_Are you really?_

        I swallow the sudden surge of resentment.  _People are not their parents,_ I remind myself.  _However they can be_ like  _them,_  a small voice also reminds me. There's a dobosh of silence while I weigh my next question. It's a real personal one, but he's also the one to ask about my 'dead' family. I decide to gamble; "Why were you banished?"

        Pidge had dig up some old Galra gossip and accidentally had found this gem of information a long time ago. But not the reason  _why_. To be honest, I'm burning with curiosity.  _What can be so bad that_ Zarkon  _banished his son?_

        Lotor smiles ruefully, "I was banished because I did not do things my Father's way."

        "Is your cruelty not up to his standards?" I comment sarcastically with raised brows.

        "That is actually what happened," Lotor explains, "I was given a planet to rule, but instead of enslaving them and simply taking whatever resources they possessed, I had allowed them to govern themselves and tried to learn  _their_ culture. My Father was not pleased and had ordered me to destroy the planet and it's people."

        My heart skips a beat. "Did you?" I whisper, fearful for the answer. He could be lying, of course, but if he isn't...

        Lotor's rueful smile drops. "No, I refused. So he sent me away and destroyed them himself."

        My heart drops to my stomach. "Oh," is all I can muster. It's not surprising, if this is the truth, but nonetheless... _That's horrible._ I decide to talk to Pidge about this later. Perhaps she can dig out more, and see if Lotor is indeed telling the truth. And if Pidge can't find it, then perhaps The Blade knows.

        "Yes, 'oh' is correct."

_Is he mocking me?_ But nonetheless, if that's the reason why he was sort-of-banished, and hasn't been welcomed back, then the logical conclusion is that he hasn't changed from back then. Which is brilliant if so. If I can find for certain that he's telling the truth, then this gem could very possibly be big enough to win my and the team's trust.

        On the other side, however, if I find out he's lying it'll ruin any progress he's made so far.

        Watching Lotor's calculating eyes closely, I know he knows that we both know this.

        "Why did you decide to leave your home planet?" Lotor inquires curiously. "Is it because you have no other family?"

_Nice tac, Prince._ I shrug my shoulders helplessly, "yeah, sort of. I kind of tagged along when we left earth, and I have no reason to return." The last part is a lie, but he doesn't need to know that. "What do you think is worse, dying or living a life of enslavement?"

        Lotor hums thoughtfully. We both know how important his answer to this is. "I can not answer for certain, for I believe that it's cowardly to bow down and give up absolutely, but there are some situations that are hopeless in which you would be foolish to fight."

        "And do you believe that  _Voltron_ and the rebel forces are foolish?"

        Lotor smirks lazily with gleaming, scheming, piercing eyes. "Nova, believe me when I say this; I would not be here if I did."

* * *

**Please answer these questions:**

**1)**  Did you think the characters were in character?

**2)**  What do you think and feel about Nova?

**3)**  How many of you are hoping this to be a romantic fan fiction?

**4)**  What are you hoping for in future chapter?

**5)**  Do you see any grammar mistakes? If you do, please tell me where so that I can immediately fix it.


	2. "You're a strange one, Alien."

       

* * *

 

 It's been a week and a half since I've started visiting Lotor. Part of me wants to bring my notebook, I have a different one for each team member, but I've decided against it. It might send the wrong message. Nonetheless, I like to believe that I've learned quiet a bit about Lotor. Although, I don't have as much information as I would if I observed him interact with other people...

        Anyways, one of the things I've noticed foremost about Lotor is his charisma. It's alarming how comfortable and easy it can be to talk to and listen to him talk. More than I like to admit; he's the one to control the conversation. Which is really bad, because that's supposed to be my job. Sometimes he just says things that sends me into a long extended chatter about things concerning my life (nothing too dangerous, thank God), and I don't realize that I've revealed more than he has before it's too late. Again, bad. There's a fine line between revealing things so that the other person feels more comfortable, and handing the reins over.

        Which leads to number two; he's crazy smart. I knew it before I met him personally because someone of his rank can't afford to be stupid. But he's more than just smart, he's clever. It's probably because I'm sort of just meeting him for the first time, but while his intelligence isn't surprising, it still took me off guard seeing it in person. We've played chess quite a lot, and while I'm not the best I'm neither a novice, he's beaten me every single damn time. 

        Is it frustrating? Absolutely. Is my pride wounded? Just a bit, yeah. 

        I've also noticed something...vicious underneath the surface. It makes my hair stand on end, my stomach uneasy, but it makes me even more curious. I can see the subtle change when we talk about Zarkon. Lotor's eyes are not warm and soft, despite his easy charisma, but they harden further. They grow colder, the tension in his body more apparent such as his shoulders and facial expressions. His jaw clenches, as if he's holding himself back. I also see a whisper of it when we play chess, how determined he is to win no matter how many pieces he still has, be it ten or two. (That actually happened once. I was winning, he only had two left, and I thought it was going to be my first victory again. But he still won at the end, the damn alien. And yes, I did brood and sulk alone after the match. No, I'm not ashamed of my behaviour.) He hasn't said anything about it, but I get the expression that he would rather die than lose, mortal combat or otherwise. Even more, it's as if all that is only a droplet in the ocean. It makes sense with who raised him, but still puts him one step back on the trustworthy-scale. 

        I haven't pushed him too hard on anything, but that isn't to say I haven't taken note on what he avoids. He's still very much on guard around me. I want him completely comfortable, so that when the time comes, he's much more likely to slip up and reveal something. 

        Because as much as I study Lotor, he's doing the exact same thing. Maybe it shouldn't -it probably really shouldn't- but this fact excites me. It poses a challenge, on who can find out the most on the other without losing anything too badly in the process. It's like the two of us are in a game of cat and mouse -and I honestly don't know who's who.

* * *

 

        Nova is a...unique human; I've found. With her large amber eyes, long lashes, oval head, pale skin, long flowing ash burnt locks and miniature stature, she almost appears like a delicate doll.

        However, there is no mistaking the intelligence and calculations behind those wide amber hues. They're always moving, flickering everywhere when we're together. They're constantly watching and picking up even the littlest details on my person. I won't be humble and say that I'm not used to the female species taking their fill of my body, or even of opponents looking their challenge up and down. But it feels...different with Nova. She doesn't examine me because of lust, nor is she assessing a threat and attempting to figure out the best way to take me down. It's as if she's trying to see me. Through me or in me, I'm not sure, I only know it's different. 

        And I don't know how to feel about it.

        Perhaps it's due to her role as a psychological healer. Perhaps she is trying to find the cracks and weaknesses in my character, although not for the same reason. Furthermore, what does she consider to be shortcomings? I find myself wondering about this when I'm alone. And I have plenty of alone time.

        She comes everyday now, has been for the last ten quintents since she first visited with the Black Paladin and the Princess, and stays for hours at a time. Everyday she has many questions and we take turns, however her questions don't feel like the interrogations that I'm used to. She does not growl, yell or demand answers. She does not attempt to dig further if I change the topic. She does not attempt to blackmail or frighten me (which would be laughable if she did. I find it extremely difficult to be afraid of her. Wary of her clear intelligence, of course, but not afraid. Who knew female humans are so small and petite?) Nor does she attempt to be underhanded in bathing me in fake praise in order to win my favour like so many have. (The books and food she sends don't count, for she never asks anything of me aside from her usual questions.) In short, I sense not even a whisper malice in her. 

        Instead, I sense strong but hidden iron will, determination, and something akin to playfulness.

        To be perfectly honest, Nova confuses me. I have theories, of course, but they do little of anything aside from making me think in circles and ponder for hours with no answers in grasp, because anything I come up with simply doesn't fit or feel right. The most probable conclusion is that the Paladins have sent Nova to investigate me due to her keen observation skills, but the Princess's sour expression whenever Nova decides to stay down with me makes me question it. Plus, why would she be concerned if I'm uncomfortable if that's the case? In fact, a proper investigator would try to make me uncomfortable and exploit it.

        The other option is that Nova is driven by pure curiosity, which seems the most correct, yet still isn't perfect. It's as if I'm missing something vital. I absolutely loath it, for I'm not used to not knowing for so long.

        I growl up to the ceiling, frustration washing over me in great waves. Perhaps I should simply ask the girl in question, but I don't want to. It puts the bitter taste of defeat in my mouth, which I despise with every fibre of my being. Victory or death. I shall figure out the complex human without cheating, even if its the last thing I do.

        "Good afternoon, Sir Purple!"

        I turn my head to watch said human walk towards my cell with a grin stretching her lips. She's the only one who comes to me for the sole sake of visiting, and with her I've begun to tell the time. She comes in at every noon for lunch and after every dinner before retiring. To be perfectly honest, I had begun to become lightly mad without anyone to interact with and with no way to tell the time aside from the daily meals, but after Nova started my cell's walls don't seem so close anymore. Seeing Nova gives me relief from my isolation, even if she simultaneously grates on my nerves with her degrading name for myself.

        So despite everything, I smile softly and sit up. "Good afternoon, Nova," I greet politely. Her grin widens when I don't fight her on her nickname. I inwardly sigh, for I know when to pick my battles and I know I shall not win that one. Now, if I can find an aweful name for her...

        "Did you not get your lunch?" Nova wonders with a quirked brow. She's holding a steaming bowl of red soup in her small hands, which I remember her saying is tomato soup. It has adequate taste. She's also wearing a light green woolly sweater with her usual black pants.

        "Must not have heard its arrival," I confess and get up. I grab my own soup, before sitting back on my bed.

        Nova settles herself on her usual spot on the floor, close to my closed and clear cell's entrance. "Have you finished the history book yet?"

        "Not yet," I answer. "I'm on the last couple of chapters." After first hearing of my scholar's love, she has supplied me with fascinating history books on humans. Apparently, humans also have history with conquering, oppressing and enslaving people.

        "Man, if only we had shared the same class in school..." shaking her head, Nova muses with an amused snort. "I would've gladly given you my share of homework."

        "Who says I would have done it for you, when I would've had my own?" I arch a brow teasingly. I take a spoonful of hot soup.

        Nova smirks slyly. "I can be very persuasive, you know."

        "I'm not denying that you can't, simply that you shouldn't underestimate my own abilities," I respond.

        Nova takes a spoonful and hums, though her eyes dances with mischief.

        "Have you finished The Empress?" I ask curiously. The fiction's plot is supposedly closely related to our own lives, which Nova finds humorous. I remember how much she liked the first book, The Diabolic. 

        "I'm only half-way through," she says. "But I'm really worried about Tyrus. He's been forced to take this addictive drug, and..."

        Nova goes on a long winded explanation/rant about the situation that the book's main characters have found themselves in. I don't mind, for I enjoy watching Nova slowly get more and more worked up because of people that don't exist. It's amusing, how the fire will light up in her large eyes, how her skin becomes pinker with fury, how her voice gets louder and when she shakes her tiny fists in the air when they aren't flying.

        I don't believe that her frustration or any of her rants are from books only, I have a nagging feeling that there's something deeper hiding, but she doesn't rant about anything else. I have asked her if anything is bothering her, but she'll simply smile a fake one and deny it. So I don't ask anymore.

        "...And I swear, if Pasus doesn't die soon, I'll find a way to climb into the fictional universe and murder him myself!" 

        "And how do you plan on achieving that?" I challenge, immensely amused with Nova's dramatics.

        Nova narrowed her eyes and scowled at me, picking up on the hints of mockery. "If wormholes exists, if giant robotic lions can have a conscious and psych, and if my friends can travel into a different reality where the Alteans have an Empire with a twisted sense of 'peace,' then I can damn well find a way!" She declares with a snarl.

        I chuckle which I know riles her up further.

        But despite it, Nova calms herself down enough to ask, "have you ever been to a different reality?"

        I'm slightly impressed with her control over her anger, for I know many high-ranking Galra that could use many lessons on self-control. "Can't say that I have," I admit honestly.

        "You were the one to send out the 'Altean' distress signal, weren't you?" Nova rests a cheek on her palm. "So that you could steal the giant rock."

        I don't bother denying it. "It's hardly a simple 'giant rock,'" I defend, annoyed.

        Nova snorts and breaths out a hollow laugh, "you know, even though I hate you some because of what you did to Allura and Coran, I can't help but be impressed."

        My brows pull together. "Is that why you don't trust me?"

        Nova shook her head, but does not explain. "How did you do it? The signal, I mean."

        "I assume that you've noticed that I'm not full Galra, correct?"

        Nova's eyes grow larger. "A-Are you saying that you're half Altean?" she exclaims in disbelief. Her gaze immediacy snaps to my cheekbones, which alas she can't see any markings.

        "That is correct."

        Nova doesn't respond for a while. She frowns and bites her thumbnail, deep in thought. When she does speak, it's with a level voice. "...How do you feel about that?"

        "Excuse me?"

        Nova clears her throat and repeats, "how do you feel about being half Galra? Does it make you feel alone, being surrounded by full Galra your entire life? Does it frustrate you, or cause you to feel sad? Were you ever allowed to learn about the other half of your heritage?"

I can't help but tense, for information on the Empire or silly questions like siblings and friends is one thing, however this is another thing altogether. This is personal. Deeply so. However, she does not change the topic or try to lesson the question. Would I lose some of her trust if I refused to answer? Looking at Nova, no, I don't think I will. She will be dejected, yes, but not angry.

        She still patiently awaits my response, sipping her soup.

        I sigh and look to a wall. How do I put this? Growing up, yes, I did feel isolated because of how I was. Being a Prince created a thick barrier between I and everyone else, and being a halfa only strengthened that barrier. Yes, it was frustrating attempting to bond with the other children my age, only for it to be fruitless. Parents warned their children away from me, not outwardly scornful since I am still a Prince, but away nonetheless. I see my difference every time I look a full Galra in the eyes, and as a young child these things impacted me greatly. So yes, this used to upset me greatly.

        People would whisper behind my back, never to my face unless they were fools, but that made it feel worse. I wish they weren't such cowards and said their comments to my face, so that I wouldn't've had to put up with so many fakes. Yes, it makes me frustrated when they judge me inferior simply because of my 'tainted blood.' I've always had to be twice as smart, twice as fast, twice as better than those around me in order to have real respect, for people to 'ignore' my heritage.

        There was a large portion of my childhood where I was ashamed of my heritage. Of when I couldn't look anyone in the eyes because of the constant reminder of my differences. I hated looking in the mirror, because I could never look away from those differences. I would wear my hair short and a hat constantly, because I hated it when people would look at it. Back then, I didn't want to learn about my other half, because I preferred to pretend that I was like everyone else.

        So yes, I was an extremely angry child growing up. It wasn't until I started traveling and conquering that my shame and anger slowly started to melt. It wasn't until I met other aliens, to see and learn their culture and heritage, and to understand and compare how so many people could be so different, yet so much the same, that I began to accept myself and to ignore anyone that thought me inferior.

        I have completely selfish reasons for picking my generals. Besides the fact that they were more than adequate for the position, I still longed to be like someone. To be part of some crowd. I never allowed our relationship to cross our social classes or ranks, but it was...comforting to have those like me around. It's a weakness, I know, one which I now know I shouldn't have given into.

        "I am not ashamed, if that is what you imply," I finally respond seriously. "I was not banned from learning about the Alteans, although I wasn't encouraged to do so either. I don't wish to speak of this further."

        Disappointed but understanding, Nova nods her head and change the topic.

* * *

 

        "I think we should let Lotor out."

        A crash sounded, a chocking fit, and six heads snapped in my direction.

        "WHAT?" a shocked Lance cries loudly. Beside him, Hunk was pounding his chest and wiping the water from his chin.

        "Huh, Nova..." Shiro blinkes stupidly at me, across the dinner table, unsure on how to carry on.

        "Why would you want to let him out?!" Lance demands angrily.

        I narrow my eyes at him. "Because, Lance, he is a person not an animal to be caged," I say icily. I don't know for certain where Lance's problem roots from, but I know it's not simply because he's Galra. I love him as a close friend, but Lance has some jealously problems which we are trying to mend. Such outrage isn't warranted.

        Lance shrinks away slightly from my tone, but don't look any less upset or stubborn.

        Allura glances to Coran. "Nova, we can't be sure if he's trustworthy yet..."

        Something swelled in my chest, and irritation slithered in me on Lotor's behave. "I'm not asking you to trust him, I'm asking you to trust me." 

        This seems to give everyone a pause.

        "What do you mean?" Hunk questions with a frown.

        "Being stuck in such a closed off cell isn't healthy," I explain seriously. "I've been trying to keep him busy with books-"

        Pidge perks up with sudden realization, her mouth making a small '0.'

        "-But he needs to do something physical. He needs exercise, like a long walk and time in the gym."

        "Nova, while I can understand a walk, I don't think letting him use the training room is the wisest decision-" Shiro began, but I cut him off. I did not start with decision on a whim; I have a strong argument with solid facts and persuasive points.

        "I didn't say we let him use the maze or whatever, but some weights and room to practice some basic sword moves can't hurt," I nod. Was I using psychology to further persuade them right now? Yes.

        Lance bristles and crosses his arms. "And what if he uses the sword on us and makes a run for it with our lions? He could just be trying to get them in order to get back into Zarkon's good side."

        Pidge makes a face. "Kinda hard to get on Zarkon's good side when he's the reason why we didn't blow up in the first place."

        "Exactly," I agree and nod, grateful that at least she can see reason. "Also, there are much more of us then there is of him. And even if he does manage to over power everyone, how the hell do you expect him to fly any of the lions?" I let that fact sink, nodding subtly as I speak and before continuing, "Lotor is wanted dead on both sides. His only haven is here with us. Why would he damn that? If you're worried about giving him a weapon, we can always give him a wooden practice one."

        Coran nods and plays with his mustache while leaning back in his chair. "You have a point," he admits slowly. He glances to Allura, "Princess?"

Gaping, Lance stares at Coran with betrayal.

        I glance at everyone, and see a variety of different levels of un-comfortability. Some glanced away when I examined them. Finally, I let my final piece fall; "How do you expect him to earn your trust when you never give him a chance or interact with him?"

        "I take it that you trust him?" Allura assumes unhappily.

        "Some what."

        "Some what?" numerous people repeat.

        I nod in conformation. "I've been talking with him for more than a week now, and I believe, after much consideration, that he should have a proper chance. We shouldn't judge him harshly solely because he's half galra. After all, so is Keith and the Blade are all full galra." I had to do some soul searching, trying to see if my own judgement was being clouded by racial beliefs. I'm ashamed to say that, yes, I think some of my dislike for Lotor is because of he's Galra. When he had admitted to that truth something... lifted and I began to see him in a slightly new light. I need to work on getting rid of that racial part of me.

        "But that's different!" Lance argues stubbornly. "Keith wasn't raised like them! And-And the Blade of Marmora aren't Zarkon's flesh and blood!"

        "Wait," Hunk exclaims, "did you just say half galra?"

        Lance freezes, just realizing that I did in fact say that.

        "What's the other half?" Shiro questions, speaking for everyone.

        "...Altean," Allura mummers absent-mindedly, and everyone's attention turns to her in surprise. Coran's eyes lit up, remembering something.

        "That's right!" Coran announces and hit his fist on his other open hand. "How could I forget?"

        "Are you guys talking about Zarkon's dead Altean wife?" Pidge asks, turning to me for conformation.

        Lance's face twists, disgusted, probably imaging Zarkon 'getting it on.'

        I had to admit that it isn't a pretty picture. Lotor's mother must have been gorgeous. "I can't imagine any other Altean," I quip.

        There's a moment of silence. Everyone's eyes flicker to each other, trying to have a silent conversation with one another.

        Until Shiro breaks it. "Alright," he says evenly and looks at me, "we'll trust your judgment on this. However, there will have to be some ground rules."

        "Seriously?" Lance comments, which no one replies to.

        "Number one," Shiro continues, "he can't be left alone. Either Allura, one of the guys, or both you and Pidge have to be present."

        "Hey," Pidge sits up and protests, "why can you guys be alone with him but we can't?"

        I have to agree with Pidge. We've received the same training as them!

        "Because while I don't doubt your combat skills, it would be too easy for him to over power one of you alone with the size difference."

        Pidge grumbled and crossed her arms, but didn't fight the unfortunate fact.

        Makes sense, I begrudgingly think.

        Shiro clears his throat. "Second rule is that he's not allowed to be anywhere but the main floor; kitchen, gym, or the lounging room."

        "Third?" I prompt.

        "Lastly, he's not allowed any real blade or weapon. Deal?"

        "Deal," I agree without hesitating. Everything about his health is correct, I didn't lie, but I also have more selfish reasons for this deal. I'll now be able to see Lotor interacting with others.

* * *

 

        "Guess what," Nova prompts with a shit-eating grin, looking mighty pleased with herself.

        My curiosity is peaked as I put my -her- book down. "What is it?" I quirk a brow.

        I can practically taste the smugness that drips from her words, "You can come out tomorrow morning."

        ...What?


End file.
